In a hungry time, a meal to be thankful for

This week, Trinity Episcopal Cathedral is expecting 700 people for Thanksgiving.

Of course, you also have to leave room for drop-ins.

Especially in this economy.

Every Wednesday -- this week, Thursday -- Trinity Episcopal, in Northwest Portland, hosts a free lunch, with three courses, real plates, table service and the curious belief that hungry people are not just mouths to feed. Every day, the church offers a small bag of food, mostly canned, for anybody who walks in, and the people leaving lunch on Wednesdays rarely forget to pick one up.

There's a lot of that going around.

Last week, the U.S. Department of Agriculture released new hunger statistics that might be called hair-raising, especially in Oregon. In 2009, according to the USDA, more than 50 million Americans, including 17 million children, lived in what it calls "low food security" households. (For a department that oversees hog slaughtering, the USDA keeps its language very delicate.)

Worse, the category the USDA calls "very low food security" -- meaning family members were actually missing meals because they couldn't afford to buy food -- rose to 17.7 million, more than double what it was in 2009.

Oregon's menu looks especially bleak. After improving earlier in the decade, Oregon's "very low food security" level, averaged over 2007-2009, was 6.6 percent of the state's population -- the third-highest level in the country. Oregon's rate rose from 4.4 percent -- tied with Washington for the third-fastest jump in the country.

Of course, at Trinity Episcopal, they saw something like this before the USDA ever got its computers fired up. When they starting serving lunch about two years ago, they were seeing about 60 people each Wednesday; these days it's over 200, topping out at 280. It's an upswing familiar to other local hunger agencies, such as the Oregon Food Bank.

"Most of our clients are men, about 80 percent," says Heidi Rose, who every Wednesday cooks for more than 200 guests. "We're now seeing a lot more women, and every now and then, someone with a child."

For those folks, says Fred Jeibmann, Trinity Episcopal's pantry coordinator, the group tries to save whatever boxes of cereal show up.

Out in the dining room, people eat with great concentration and purpose; unless they've come with a friend, their eyes often stay focused on their plates, as if to make sure they don't miss anything. While many of them come for a place to be as well as for the food, the economy seems to set itself a place at every table.

"I don't think the jobs are out there the way they used to be," says Bud, a retired welder.

"It's been pretty hard out there since 9/11. I'm hoping it picks up," says David, who used to work construction. "I'm hoping to get back to work here pretty soon, but winter's just heading in."

These days, reports Tasha, "It's harder for me to make money." Asked what she typically makes money doing, she shrugs.

Rose carefully designs meals for her regulars. "What's lacking in their diet is fresh produce and lean protein," she explains. "They get plenty of day-old baked goods; that's not what they need."

Tuesdays, Jeibmann goes up to the Oregon Food Bank warehouse, sees what's fresh and available, and calls Rose so she can plan a menu.

Last Wednesday, lunch opened with a salad, then roast pork with onion rings and rice, and chocolate cake. Rose can make adaptations; for a Muslim lunch regular who doesn't eat pork, she made a frittata.

"We don't like to be characterized as a soup kitchen," says Jeibmann. "We have a community meal."

Community is what supports the lunch and pantry program, led by a massive Trinity Episcopal volunteer and contribution effort. The Oregon Food Bank helps provide the food, bolstered by local contributions from neighbors such as Trader Joe's, Phil's Meat Market and Kettleman Bagels. Next month, Congregation Beth Israel, around the corner, will handle Christmas dinner duties.

And this Thursday, for the Trinity Episcopal Thanksgiving, a lot of the guests will have at least one clear reason to be thankful.

"This is some of the best food in town," says Ronald Arquette, who comes here regularly.

"I always leave this place with joy in my heart."

Jeibmann appreciates the compliment, but his feelings are a little more mixed.

"To be successful," he says, "we should have less people eating here, rather than more."